left-handed wanders

My sister and I braved the sauna dome…to watch UP win!
I’m so relieved.

Congratz to the UP Pep Squad.
I don’t recognize most of the cheers na ah?

But it was fun!

Parusa nga lang Gen. Admission.

U-P!

I was about to sleep you know. Cause heyyy its after midnight and I have work tomorrow…but no. But I really should sleep, been late for work for two months already? It doesn’t matter—the attendance…thick skinned I maybe, I make amends. Yet I really have to sleep but I am just a bundle of emotions tonight. And no degree of time would make it go away for the moment—before or after.

Nice to see that my “Theory” series has been realized though it isn’t finished yet (sorry forgot to append “to be concluded in the end) will try to fish it out of me over the weekend, though I don’t think it’s possible there’s so much stuff to do…work, life, apps and I’m not even in Makati anymore. I have to get a grip on my work sched…been cramming since day one, probably till the day I die.

My throat is parched, I’m thirsty but the ref’s an awful lot of steps away. But the fan compels me to type. Something, anything…you know.

I confess I’m a bit pressured on how to end the Theory serial. Can’t seem to find an appropriate end to it. I must say I’m rooting for a dark ending but might change my mind. I cannot wait to reread this piece when I turn 30…I’ll even comment on it something like, “You fool!”

I couldn’t decide on a life altering decision again. So I’ll do it anyway, regrets and problems later. Woot!

Lookin’ forward to Friday night
& to this life

ok. That’s it sleeping na

“France it is!”

Those words flashed on my celfone screen once.

“France it is!”

Indeed.

+

My desire to go abroad is a part of myself that still proves to be insatiable. Somehow that pagan instinct of our ancestors, being hunters and gatherers, is somewhat hardwired in my brain—that wanderlust. I feel it constantly. Sometimes I manage not to think about it but when it strikes, especially in unguarded moments, I’m left helpless.

+
As I’ve expressed in previous posts before I have developed these mental atmospheres of foreign lands in my brain. And somehow I find myself drawn to European cities. And for as long as I don’t set foot on those faraway places, these mental images will still haunt me.

I wish it wouldn’t be like Marcel and “Phaedra”. But they would be just as I imagined them to be, even better.

+

Why don’t I do something about it then?

It is true when JP tells us that, “We are not simply our facticity….”
It has always been a message of hope for me. That somehow I can choose to rise from it all. That somehow I can choose to rebel. But believing in that phrase makes you face a double-edged sword. It involves an actual struggle. And this struggle cements an obvious fact: Yes, we are simply not our facticity BUT we also cannot escape from it.

Bummer.

+

When things go bad at home, school or wherever, my wishful failsafe plan has always been to escape, to London, to Paris, to Tokyo—you name it.

“Anywhere but here.”

But I’m always forced to face things head on. No matter how much I didn’t want to (no matter how cumbersome, ugly, forsaken), I am just forced to live and deal with it. There was no resthouse in Tagaytay for me, no vacation in the US, not even my own room that I claim to myself…no. All I had was a crappy shack, on a funny sounding street. Sometimes I even dreaded coming home. It depressed me to see its decaying roof and the bleached wooden exterior. Heck! It isn’t even ours.

I resented this very much when I was young. It toughened me up inside. And it made me rely on my imagination almost to a point of gross exaggeration. Books and movies helped a lot. I do not know how could I’ve managed to live without them. They offered different worldviews for me…proof that at some part of the world things were good, things were beautiful.

+
This resentment I carried when I came to college.

I must say, college made me think big. It was there where I met classmates who are far different from what I’ve been used to. In elementary and highschool,my classmates and I shared a similar class background. But in Diliman I saw, I saw first hand how money could make your life roll. How affluent families had sensibilities different from my own. How my classmates who had doctors, lawyers, engineers, architects for parents grew up differently from me. And how much (I remember), I wanted a piece of it.
And so I placed all my bets on this myth of a great life after college, how the world and its prizes are mine for the taking…

I felt that the Philippines owed me a premium once I graduated. So I studied hard. Cause in this lifetime, that’s my only chance of making it big. No safety nets, no trust funds, no family business…If I blew it then I’m done for.

I got ahead of myself.

+

So on the evening that I received that text message. A few months after leaving Makati…made me question my decision of giving up the dream in the first place. I couldn’t help but wonder how my cards would’ve played out if I chose to stay in Advertising…what if I actually won the prize to Cannes too?

If it happened to a close friend, why can’t it happen to me? And to France of all places!

Again, I got ahead of myself.

Sino ba ako?
Ako si Jedi, panganay na anak ng dalawang haiskul gradweyts na ginapang at sinakap nilang pagtapusin ng kolehiyo.

Hindi pa ba sapat saken yun? At nandito ako ngayon at nagrereklamo na hindi ako makabili-bili ng tiket papuntang ibang bansa para magbakasyon? Na wala silang pantustos para ipagpatuloy ko pa ang aking pag-aaral sa banyagang unibersidad? Na kailangan ko pa intindihan and food and living expenses kahit makakuha pa ako ng iskolarship?

Na kailangan kong mag-sikap, mag-ipon at magtrabaho para lamang makamit ito samantalang may mga katulad ko namang binibigay at inaalok sa kanila kahit hindi nila gusto?

Pinili ko na mag-iba ng career at dahil dito iba na ang daan na aking tinatahak. Bagama’t hindi ko alam kung kung kelan, saan, at paano may iba pang paraan para makita ang mundo.

Wala akong premium na dapat hingin.

+

Up to this point in my life…I move in places that barely constitute a jeepney ride to fathom. I walked to my elementary school, I took a tricyle to highschool, and I took a jeep to college. And now that I’m working, I commute not far from my college.

So I’ve come to feel that I exist inside this bubble. Bauby’s diving bell. Where all I could do is to stare out:

And Feel that dreamy feeling when I watch a BBC reporter broadcasting from a tube station in England, seeing that bright red double-decker bus passing from behind…with the words, “the London sightseeing tour”

And feel that melancholy rush when I look up in the sky, and see a plane flying overheard, up up and away…

And feel the wave of inferiority and envy when people talk about their travels abroad.

Does the world look in?

or "Sa Piling ng mga Heswita"

1

I woke up after a huge row with my dad.
This basically meant:

A couple or all the neighbors stirred in the middle of the night
I almost got punched in the face
My mac almost got chucked out of the window

My dad has a very bad temper. These rage episodes happen rarely but when they do you can expect them leaving marks around the house: A whole in the door (yeah), a smashed stereo unit, an expensive celfone in bits etc

In short he can be an asshole.

You can reason with him all you want but once he dons this oversized-male-horny-gorilla-protecting-his-territory suit, well, you gotta run.

Last night, our path crossed once again. I admit, even if I’m older now and make my own money I must say I’m still scared of my old man. He is sensitive almost to the point of being immature with superhuman strength. And I gotta tell you it isn’t a very good combination.

The reasons that trigger these anger bursts are often than not silly. And last night wasn’t different.

2
When I left my first job, during the time I gave my resignation letter, I wasn’t planning to work anytime soon. I mused on the idea of being a bum for awhile because I was just exhausted. But events played out differently-I got a job at "the" Ateneo.

2.1
Ateneo has the rich peeps as patron. The stereotypes? believe it! It is true. But I question myself if I could blame them? After all it isn’t their fault that they’re rich. Though I must stress that not all of them–2%? 10? hehehe Ateneans are definitely not my crowd.
But I’ve gotta say they have brains. They have everything!

The earliest memories of my Ateneo awareness was during elementary at our friendly neighborhood public school. Ateneo had this "Tulong Dunong" program where in highschool Ateneans reached out and tutor the lowlifes of this earth. I wasn’t chosen to attend those "special" classes though I couldn’t remember if there was any criteria for selection (defensive!). Those who weren’t attending/the rest of the class were sent to toil in the fields. This meant being ordered to tidy up the vegetable gardens, heap up and dig compost pits or polish every fuckin’ wooden surface.

Ateneo was a gated community for me. But I sometimes thought how would it be like if I was just like them…I guess I’d be a snobby brat too but with very very good taste.

2.1.1
I somehow despise these outreach programs of private schools. I don’t know what benefit can rich kids derive from knowing that they’re definitely rich, that they’re definitely different. Pity? Joy? Suffering? shabby guilt trip? For me. As long as by the end of the day, you still go home in your fancy car, still order your uniformed maids around, or still kiss your mom&dad off to a benefit dinner…well…

2.2
My creative director an Ateneo alumna, she’s an exception (save!), offered me a job opening at the Ateneo.  I was to apply as a graphic designer for a foundation by the Jesuits. Though I wasn’t really serious about it I agreed to be interviewed.

Why?

a. At least hindi naman kahihiyan pag sinabi kong sa Ateneo ako nagtratrabaho
people immediately assume as teacher hehehe but no, I immediately confess that staff ako
(na kumakain mismo sa kamay ng mga Atenista.)

b. It’s like a 10 minute trip from my house! OMG!

c. An academic setting (which I love) and offcourse the nice facilities.

d. To find deeper meaning in my life? Heck! to find God?

I remember how my CD even drew a map for me. And how, upon seeing it, kinda flipped to find that I was supposed to tread a road called "Seminary Drive". I don’t know if it’s a joke but seryoso pwera bola nagbalak din kasi ako maging pastor bago ako mag-college. Hehehe I was a Jesus freak during my high school days. This is a fact that I don’t feel ashamed off. Was God telling me something?

So I went, and eventually I came to work for the Jesuits, when analyzed further, for God.
as they say, AMDG

3
I don’t know. Since I became obsessed with trying to do something meaningful with my time on earth…I couldn’t answer if my time at Ateneo was worth something. Because to some degree, you have to believe in what you do and during the early days of my stay, I was in doubt. Cause somehow, I seemed to question the wealth of the Jesuit order, how mostly rich kids could afford the kind of education they provide etc. etc. How religion played a sinister role during the Spanish colonial period…

Where did God and I stand?

4
As time passed, I’ve gotta say I liked it there. There’s still politics but alam mo yun, parang away bahay lang. I think it’s because money isn’t such a big deal cause we really don’t have much to begin with. Mainly, almost, we’re volunteers. It’s like we’re just one big family. And my big boss, a Jesuit is someone that I respect.

4.1
Jesuits are fascinating. They’re a big order, dating far back in history and man, they’re very intelligent. They devote a huge deal in the pursuit of knowledge. Cause pursuing knowledge as one Fr. told me is a way of glorifying God. Sometimes they scare me a little, cause somehow you can’t help but picture them as Plato’s Philosopher kings–Yeah. And the names they use: novices; philosophers; scholars; Fathers; magis, lotsa of Latin stuff etc. sometimes sound a little cult-y.

I find it weird sometimes when I call my boss Fr. no matter how you say it, it always feels like a sign of submission–divine submission, "Yes, Father" - like "Thy will be done" as if nothing’s impossible cause no other than God Himself is sanctioning it. Weird. But I like them, them Jesuits. They’re still people, some are weird, some are not so pleasant but its nice that I’ve mostly met great ones. And I liked to hear the stories they told, they’re vocations stories hehehe and the occasional theology lesson when a Jesuit is hanging out in our dept. I liked how they see the bible as a piece of literature. And as literary techniques abound, just like the bible it employs the elements of literature…convenient but it makes sense to me.

5
So I woke up this morning after the fight last night. Eyes a little sore from shedding a tear no matter how I tried to hold it back. And I remembered that our new TV Mass show was on TV this morning. I watched. I smiled when I saw the title card I made a few days ago being flashed on the screen…I smiled some more when I saw the preliminary observations raised before the pilot aired, "Fr shift kayo ng shift ng mike, parang radyo…next time punasan ang pawis ni Fr, waterfalls!…I laughed when I saw my office mates as extras…how when the camera shifted to the audience you saw familiar faces…laughed again when I heard my voice reciting the recorded responsorial psalm…hehehe and the homily: finding God in the smallest of things. How Elijah found the presence of God in the whisper of the wind.

I felt better, somehow things were going to be okey. I felt that, seeing what we made on TV. And it made me wonder, how many people were tuned in like me on that particular hour…somehow, did they find hope?

I guess I don’t have to give a damn whether believing only by faith is stupid. If what I do helps people, in a  way, to believe in something far more greater than themselves then shouldn’t I feel that it is a worthy cause? I don’t know.

I just have to believe.

To be concluded…

I’ve said much bitter things about my brief sojourn in Makati.

Well
it wasn’t all that bad.

Cause
I was blessed with a great creative team, that was kinda like my family
na rin. If I didn’t miss the work, I could say that I miss them. I’m
thankful for that. My team was the greatest ever sa dept. (yabang???)
and we have the best part of the floor kasi were the ones beside the
big window. Hehehe kaya I love the view lagi. You can see Manila Bay
from my desk. Nice.

After thine affliction I had a hard time
delivering my printed resignation letter to all the people concerned.
Though I was aware that I could bail and never set foot in the office
again. I took the prescribed route of sending the message through
proper channels. The hardest part was handing it to my boss, the one
who interviewed and hired me. Well, it was because my resignation
proved him right.

I cringed.

They’ve hired students from
UP before—and none of them left a good impression. He told me that when
we were in the cold conference room.

“What makes you any different?”

I blurted all the give-me-the-job mumble.

When it could’ve been,
“The fact that you’re thinking of hiring me right Now.”

(Hayup!)

***

I had bad bad bad flashbacks.
But besides that I was okey. Somehow I knew/I felt why my forefathers quit (or were they just too bohemian and self-obsessed?).

So my last day came.

***

Coming
from a lower (or lower lower lower) middle class* background, Makati
CBD’s buildings, though they had dickheads for workers, managed to make
me go “wow”. It’s not downtown Manhattan but it’s the only place
vaguely resembling it in the Philippines. It’s this small piece of
developed land that’s clean and nice. With all the connotations of
richness and luxury you can pack in a business & “wellness” themed
biosphere—terrarium.

When I did my rounds of applications to all
the advertising agencies in the place (and that time I wasn’t really
interested in any office outside of it) I judged them primarily on
office space and location. My eyes were set on Ayala Avenue. So when I
ended up in it, I wanted to see my buildings helipad from the very
start. Yep. It caught my attention right away. I remember always
looking up before I entered the building, waiting for a faint dizziness
rush over me. You should try it hehehe stand almost close to the wall
and look up a tall building.

At first, I thought you could have
access to it by taking the highest route on the elevator but I forgot
that the building wasn’t like Lepanto where one could sneak out to the
topmost floor and take the stairs (Which I did with my OJTmates one
summer). To access the helipad you take a special elevator, escorted by
building security staff armed with firepower and a permit. Geez, wasn’t
curiosity reason enough?

I was disappointed. I really thought I
could sneak out from work, befriend a guard or two and have access to
the helipad…and just stay there to think, relax, detox etc.

So
when the date of my resignation loomed, I decided that seeing the
helipad of tower 1 was going to be my last mission. During lunch break
I went and asked the concierge about getting permission. I was told
that I needed a “valid” reason, a written letter stating my purpose
signed by a VIP and the number of people that would be present. I
realized that my only chance of making it was to make my boss an
accomplice. So I drafted this fake letter explaining the agency’s need
for pictures of the Makati skyline for a print production. This, while
crossing my fingers for my boss’ signature.

Unfortunately/fortunately
she told me that she didn’t have the authority to sign such a document.
And that’s how our Executive CD got involved. My CD, Monique showed it
to Bonnie our ECD…and then I found myself in his office.

He
first asked if I planned to kill myself. I said no, I told him that it
was just for the sake of it. I think he thought it stupid but he agreed
to sign the letter anyway (since aalis naman na daw ako). I was glad,
heck I was excited to go up! He even said that he’d bring his camera
and equipment to make it more legit. Nice, my plan was falling into
place.

Word soon spread and little did I realize how many
people, from the creative dept. at least, also wanted to see the
rooftop. So my intention of a solitary trip quickly became a Department
field trip.

But there was only one problem the weather.

***

The
day of the rooftop trip came. I promised myself that I’d just enjoy the
day. I’d accomplished most of the formalities of resigning—the only
thing missing was that box where you put all your junk in. I wish I’d
bought one to complete the ceremony.

Oh—that, and another job
interview, yep, on my last day at work. _______ called me for an
interview a couple of days before and I agreed. I wasn’t serious or
anything really …I even told my boss and she advised against it.
“Mas-panget dun.” I believe were her exact words. But I must admit the
name of the ______ based agency is catchy. It used to be called
__________ until “_________” acquired it.

Why did I agree to it?
Well during the time of my resignation my agency thought that I could
try copywriting. I’d like to think that this was because they didn’t
want me to leave. (I don’t know) But I must say I felt that a
copywriter’s job was easier during that time, for the simple reason
that they always left after 6pm while we go on and toil till morning
comes, most of the time. And besides, I felt that I could write to save
my life. So it couldn’t be that hard. Right? Also, during that time, to
be honest, I was fearful of my future. I was leaving an industry that
could very well be my only chance of becoming rich in this lifetime. I
was leaving “the” industry that I always thought, since I was a college
freshmen, would be the one I’d devote the rest of my life to. So
somehow, I was tempted, heck I even thought of becoming an account
executive. But in the barest sense I agreed because I wanted to do
something that I might never have a chance to do again….

Art
directing is a really cool job. But it’s different when it becomes,
repetitive. It’s different if much of what you want gets scrapped by a
client’s whim. It’s just different, it just becomes tedious. And
there’s always this fuss about churning ideas at a flick of a finger,
three concepts, two concepts blah blah blah. I felt that I didn’t
graduate from UP just to do that. Buti sana kung I’m discovering a cure
for cancer pero kung pambalot lang naman ng panty na may rhinestones
aba…I mean I can bullshit all I want but sabi ni Oble ialay daw ang
talino sa bayan hindi ba’t mas maganda namang direksyon yun? Kaya yun
nalang siguro. Yun nalang siguro ang solid na dahilan kung bakit ako
umalis sa industriya. At wala akong sasabihin sa mga taong gustong
pumasok dito kasi yung iba nakakayanan naman na parang wala lang eh di
good for them. Basta gawin mo ang gusto mo gawin sa buhay.

Ano kamo? Idealist ako? Aba pota ka, kung walang mga idealista sa mundo matagal na tayong nilamon ng atomic bomb.

If
I remember correctly the interview was at 2pm. The office was a couple
of buildings down from where I am so I wasn’t in a rush. I sneaked out
the office 30mins before 2. The rooftop trip was set at 4pm so I had
plenty of time. I was greeted by the concierge and was led to a
conference room the HR manager was the first to meet me. And of course
the usual forms were filled out and shit. After awhile she was curious
why I was leaving my agency, seeing it written on the paper. She told
me that the agency’s ECD and a CD was going to meet me shortly, and she
was sure they would be interested why.

Shit? Okey. So they came.
I was surprised to see that the ECD was young, late twenties? And he was accompanied by a female CD.

I
must say. I almost “loved” advertising again a couple of minutes into
the interview. Mainly because I think, I think ok, they were really
interested in having me on board. And the Jedi they met that day wasn’t
the usual Jedi. He was ten times himself. They asked about syempre why
I resigned. And I gave them the “tedious” litany. So I said I’m
interested in trying out copywriting.

And what the ECD said, I don’t care if he was pulling my leg, was one of the best ego massages I ever got.

“…with
copywriting, well anyone can write. But a person who has an “eye”,
that’s someone who is hard to find. And seeing your work—out of all the
applicants—your work caught my attention….”

Pumalakpak ang tenga ko.

I
was sad, I was kinda likin’ the ECD already, bwehehehe, but I thought
that this job wouldn’t be any different. Besides, I’ve decided already.
Diba Jedi? Nagdesisyon ka na?

I said,

“…I came to Makati
because I thought that advertising was great, I’ve tried art directing
so now its copywriting, if that doesn’t work well…I’m fucked.”

They laughed. You’re the man Jedi.

Then the ECD said,

“…the bottom line is if we offer you the art directing position, would you accept it?”

“No.”

As
I said that my heart thumped wildly, my mind was raising…they were
getting up thanking me for my time…they asked if I wanted to leave my
portfolio I declined. I was out in the lobby down the
elevator….shit….shit….shit

Did I just do that?

Suddenly I
laughed, I was laughing at myself on Ayala Avenue. I was walking and I
just laughed…. I was dizzy…my palms were sweaty…exhilarated. I don’t
know if I was going to regret this but Damn! It felt goooood. I did
what I came for. I was all freakin’ Dharma chakra parivartana, I was
turning the wheels of the law!

It dawned on me. I won’t have
anything to do with this business anymore. Art directing, copywriting,
accounts—no. Pota! Bahala na!

All that time pining for a single phone call, all that time worrying, pulling hair, what for—this? Please!

Nung
nag-apply ako hindi niyo ko pinapansin. Nagahahanap kayo ng my
experience ayaw niyo tumanggap ng fresh grad puwes magsama-sama kayo,
go down with the Philippine economy or what’s left of it, every one of
you! Mag-scam ads nalang kayo nang mag-scam ads dun lang naman kayo
magaling Hahahaha

I’m OUTTA here!
Wuhuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!

(A couple of other agencies called after that but I didn’t bother.)

Then I just laughed some more.

***

Adrenaline
was still pumping/coursing through me when I sat at my desk back in the
office. Matatawa na maiiyak ang pakiramdam ko. Kasi mukhang gutom na
nga tlga ang kahihinatnan ko sa buhay. Pero ayos, ayos, kung may
pagkakataon mang magpaka-existentialist ako eh eto na iyon.

4pm came, and I was excited. High ako. High ako nung umakyat ako ng rooftop.

And there I was.

Wow.

It
wasn’t windy. The air was warm and still. I remember that I couldn’t
hear the traffic down below. The day was overcast, and it rained the
day before. I was at the top of this ivory tower. I broke off from the
group and reached the edge of the yellow perimeter—the safe zone. The
helipad didn’t have any barriers it was a flat polygonal slab of
concrete. And I imagined what it would feel like to see the edge five
paces away.

I
was there. I could see Manila all around. It’s not a rye field. There
were no bratty kids to catch. But there was a cliff. And Jedi was about
to fall off the edge. I watched him fall till he disappeared. Then I
turned away.

To be concluded…

.____________________________________________

We
took a lot of pictures that day, and when we came down, I was just
thankful, just thankful. I’ll always remember that time when I see that
helipad. And now, almost a year after, when I see it occasionally, I
smile.

*It’s
hard for me to gauge. Lower Class-technically the one’s who live in the
slums / Middle Class the ones who live in BF Homes etc. Hmmm, I live in
Project 4. Definitely not BF homes hindi naman slums. But with the bad
drainage and plumbing that spits your shit out from time to time,
sometimes I feel like I live in a dump.

Just got back home from CCP with Ranchero’s imagery still in my mind.

***

The
biggest hindrance for me was the venue and time. Manila, Roxas Blvd at
9pm. But I got dressed and went out the door and decided to take the
train. Two train rides. On the EDSA MRT off to Taft station–then hop
to the MANILA LRT down on Vito Cruz station.

It’s been awhile
since I travelled in Manila. I believe the last time was during finals
week, senior year. The place never fails to leave a damp impression on
me, that festering feeling. But in an odd way I found pleasure in it,
maybe because it was a grey late afternoon.

***

Got in
a little early, three hours early. But the lobby was already full cause
"Jay" was already starting. A sense of accomplishment came over me
seeing the poster of "Ranchero" displayed together with the others. I
met up with Michael and JT at the lobby and spent the remainder of the
time with them seated in front of the main theater entrance. Eugene
Domingo came over and congratulated Michael, she seems nice…I saw
Jessica Zafra!…wait I must follow her…she’s coming my way!…should
I talk to her?… call out her name?…shit wala akong camera…teka
paalis na siya…she’s going outside the building…wait. why am I
following her? dex! peram ng cam…bugsy!…shit nawala na siya…Sir
Tats! pauwi na po kayo? wag po muna manood kayo ng Ranchero!…hindi na
nanood nako ng "Jay"…o tara na…nandun sa taas si Direk…wag mo na
ubusin ang yosi…maaga pa ang gabi…anong bangkero?…hindi sagwan
yung nasa poster…

***

9PM-ish the theater lights dimmed.

***

RANCHERO: My Film Review

I
wish I came to the cinema without knowing anything about it just to be
able to give a more objective account. But since I’m kinda involved
with the film I saw a few rough cuts na during post production. But
I’ll try so here goes

***SPOILERS**

I must say when the
director first approached me to make the promotional materials I was
already intrigued with the plot he conveyed. In my mind I saw it had a
lot of potential to be a brooding, dark and tragic film.
Fortunately/unfortunately it’s the kind of film that I’m drawn to. It’s
the kind of film that I like.

In a nutshell Ranchero is a film
about a criminal inmate, Ricardo, who’s about to be set free. He is
stationed as a cook in the kitchen of a provincial prison responsible
for the everyday meals of all the prisoners. Certain events play to his
disadvantage and threaten his chances of being let out. The entire film
happens in the course of one day.

The opening credits foreshadow
the films gravity towards simplicity/minimalism. The misty mood is set
by the great music score (byToto Sorioso) with each phrase
appears/disappears abuptly in black and white. The guitar plucks and
strums develop into a steady rising rhythm only to be syncopated and
reset again and again—throughout the film.

Initially, I felt
that the film had a lot of dragging scenes at the beginning. And I was
worried that, as Director Joe Wright would call it, enough “indulgent”
shots would litter the cut to make the audience yawn more than a couple
of times. The camera if not stationary, undulates and lingers on scenes
without much unraveling. The acting is a bit contrived at some parts
but the film succeeds in featuring a believable sketch of life in
prison.

The ending of the film gives a haunting ring to the
possibility of two outcomes. And surpisingly enough I thought that the
“drag” I felt from the beginning capped the finale perfectly. Seeing
the movie as a whole made me realize that the dragging scenes had a
place in the film after all. We must feel the monotony of life inside
prison where everything happens repetitively; where life is reduced to
mundane trivialities; where time spreads the human mind thin—barely
able to hold its sanity; in order for us to understand the smile on
Ricardo’s face as he walked out of his cell to the kitchen on his last
day inside…or his utter grief as he weeps inside the kitchen towards
the end.

The film has no witty narrations, complicated subplots
and fancy camera work. It just simply wants to show us an instance of a
life colliding with forces/powers beyond him; a life realizing the
irrelevance of morality, the good and the bad, when everything seems
already predetermined.

A world wherein doing what is right doesn’t guarantee positive consequence.

It is in the monotony of “Ranchero” that we find the tragedy unraveling in a slow subtle way. It is what makes it sublime.

Watch "Ranchero"
at this year’s Cinemalaya Film Festival.

Premieres this Saturday July 12, 9:00 PM
at the Cultural Center of the Philippines.

(see posters for more screening dates)

Just came home from the "Wanted" premiere at Gateway.

Seeing Angelina Jolie wield a kick-ass gun again was very refreshing. She was born to play this kind of role, as in.

How was the movie? well it’s a blockbuster. so it’s BIG in almost everything. Highly entertaining, in a I-really-wish-I-could-curve-a-bullet kind of way.

My sister said that the script was kinda cheezy at some parts–well yeah. and that some of the scenes were just way too fantastic (but they were cool nonetheless)…but I’ll let it slide because

Wanted, the film sends out a message:

Take control of your life.

It was a bit too "out" there especially the last line at the end (it could’ve been subtler). But heyyy I like the message.

Cause like Wesley Gibson, I felt like that at some point, that "robot" feeling, the repetitiveness, the fading-away-into-oblivion-feeling, bored-shitless-bagboy on a supermarket mien…I don’t know maybe I still am. But I believe its just a phase, it must be a phase, you know, it just has to be.

I totally get it. I understand how it is to be (just) waiting for something to happen.

And while watching the film a part of me wished for an Angelina Jolie to tell me that I am somebody totally not myself.That I am destined for bigger things. But the thing is that’s not how it works (I know, duh) but the film allowed me to escape in unreality…see jedi curve that bullet. So I guess that’s why I liked the film.

So I’ll try to do that.

I’ll load my gun, then shoot.

load it again, then shoot.

load it again, then shoot.

Till I hit something.

I woke up with a fever and a sore throat. Immediately I thought of calling in sick—texting rather. It was automatic, I didn’t have any doubts. There was no way I’m getting on that train to work; I might pass out on the musty elevator.

Graduating made me feel free in a way. If we can ever call ourselves free. I never thought of missing a class due to illness—ever. A red mark on my attendance, an exclusion from an incentive and missing an important lecture just simply wouldn’t do. Screw typhoid fever if I have a paper due.

But during that time I woke up, I wasn’t in school anymore. Yes I was still part of a system, but what is the actual engdame?

1. Salary deduction.

2. Bad Employment record

3. Derailment of a consistent career path

I don’t know. I felt that I wasn’t risking anything really, even if the said tonsilitis was the reason for my two-week absence. I was really bedridden for a few days, so the reason for the preliminary no-shows was physical—the rest was mental.

***

I had plans. But client wants the damn thing tomorrow—stay late, stay late. Finish it. I’m not allergic to clients, I love them they give me money. I can bear the exasperating ones, the stupid ones, all the “ones” but I find sacrificing my time to a pointless cause just—sick.

Final Artist: “Oh ano, hindi ka pa uuwi noh? Kailangan mo pang hintayin i-mock up yung shopping bag.

Me: “Wala eh, dami pa nakapila.”

Final Artist: Ahh.

Me: Kawawa ka naman nilalagnat ka na pumasok ka parin. OT pa.

Final Artist: Kailangan eh.

Me: Buti hindi ka pa nababadtrip. Kung ako yan’ badtrip nako. Kasi Nakakainis talaga.

I sat in front of the computer. I wasn’t aware na “hindi na maipinta” ang mukha ko. The Senior AD noticed, apparently, he also overheard the conversation.

Then he told me:

Pissed off ka ba?

Na-pipiss off ka ba?

“Kung ganyan ka lang. Aba eh pag-isipan mo ng mabuti kung tatagal ka ba dito. (He continues clearly angry) Dahil wala pa sa kalingkingan yang dinadanas mo. Ni wala pa sa butil.”

Oops.

I didn’t know what to say for a couple of seconds.

Then my mind reeled. “Wala sa kalingkingan…Wala sa butil” those wear the words that stuck in my head. I held my tongue.

“Wala sa kalingkingan…Wala sa butil” Is he actually saying that it is hard? What is hard? Sitting on your ass all day, clicking away with your fingers??? Having lunch meetings in fancy restaurants? Brainstorming with free flowing food on an airconditioned conference room The f*ckin asshole thinks his job is actually hard?

FYI dickhead.

It’s hard because you make it hard. Its hard cause you chose to stay in the business. And let me guess why, because it pays well? Well stick that f*ckin wad of pesos up your ass. You earn more than what millions of Filipinos get for a month: planting rice, teaching students, cleaning houses. And don’t you tell me selling a bottle of beer, a carbonated beverage, a miracle shampoo alleviates human suffering.

“Dahil wala pa sa kalingkingan yang dinadanas mo. Ni wala pa sa butil.”

Shut up.

Your suffering is well compensated for, or should I say overly compensated? It came with the contract Bitch, you sold your soul. Literally.

SO. YOU. DON’T. TELL. ME. HOW. IT. IS.

Ang pinakaayaw ko pa naman eh yung sinisindak ako. Tipong minamata ka eh hindi ka naman kilala. Tsong’ laki sa hirap ‘to, ako yung batang patay ang kuko sa paa dahil walang pambili ng bagong sapatos nung elementary. Eh ikaw? Eletista ka ata eh, leche ka ang daming nagugutom sa mundo pagbebenta ng mouthwash ang inaatupag mo.

***

I stayed home for two weeks, lying in bed left me to my thoughts. It’s incredibly enticing really, advertising’s USP (unique selling proposition): stay and you can retire at forty. But I just really couldn’t do it anymore. Yeah after four months, I’m even surprised it took me that long.

An officemate who was kind enough to show concern gave me an advice: to stay in the biz you really can’t fall in love with your work. The first time I heard it, I didn’t put any serious thought to it. So I was like, “yeah sure, I can do that” but I was wrong. Whatever I do it’s something I created. It is my opinion, it may look like crap to some but i don’t care. There wasn’t really any room for that in the biz.

When I got better a peculiar thing happened.
After days of acute tonsilitis a piece of *matter slid from my throat. I felt it with my tongue and was a bit astonished. I felt a firm mass with jelly-like consistency. I spat it in my palm out of curiosity, and I saw a flesh colored substance with tinges of white and green with streaks of blood.

I felt like Saul from the Holy Scriptures. Scales fell from his eyes—this thing slid down my throat.

In my joy I took it as a symbol. Was I given back my voice? My voice that was stiffled from the circle I’m in? Is God telling me to speak what’s on my mind?

I’d like to think so. I believe so.

When I came back to the office, it was for me to print my resignation letter.

To be concluded

________________________________________________

This is for my 1st yr anniversary in the work place June 25th my first, first day at work.

*A recent event, a month ago, a pebble-sized clump of earwax fell from my ear. Is the universe telling me something? Am I to expect something falling from my eyes soon?
Or do I just suffer from a less stringent sense of personal hygiene?

July is coming.

And that means UAAP season 71 opens!

This year’s oh so special since the University of the Philippines is hosting (on our Centennial Year). What can I say matagal-tagal na rin akong hindi nakakasigaw ng, "U-nibersidad ng Pilipinas!" and I miss it. There’s nothing like feeling that school spirit once those drums roll, especially on a big venue such as Araneta Coliseum. When I was in college it didn’t really matter that our basketball team lose (almost everytime). Just feeling the UP presence, that sense of belonging was enough for me, I had fond memories of the games I watched as an undergrad.

I’m sure the UP peeps will com full force that day, mostly kasi required sa PE hahaha! Pero shet I’ll attend as an alumni na–ang ibig sabihin lang nun ken afford na ako bumili ng Patron tickets wuhuuu!!!

Ayoko na mag-upper Box B! Gen Ad! NOOO!